


i can come when you want me to come

by akissontitan



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Light D/s, Masturbation, Multi, Voyeurism, guilt/shame as a fetish, kravitz....i cant keep fixing your problems for you like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akissontitan/pseuds/akissontitan
Summary: Getting to witness them is indulgence enough. Enough for several thousand endless existences.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "Oops! All Sub Kravitzes" should be my new ao3 username.
> 
> Requested by my wife who paid $4.69 for this

Kravitz gives up pretending he isn't listening roughly around the time he hears Istus' dress hit the floor.

He can recognise their moans and soft sounds now, with his hand jammed down his pants, stroking himself with his face in a hastily-conjured cushion to muffle himself.

The thing about his Queen's castle is that the walls are so thin, since they're fake and created from an imagined ether, just like everything else. And his Queen- She never silences Herself. It's… he's being _disgusting_. Disgusting, and wrong, and _sick_ because the wrongness is half the appeal.

He whines into soft down and squeezes his erection in his palm. The mortal form he's conjured produces hot tears that prick just in the corners of his eyes.

Disgusting.

She'd say as much.

She'd call him filthy things, _true_ things, about how much of a- how much he _wants_ \-- and with _Istus_ there, always quiet and contemplative but with a humour in Her eyes when She looks at him like She _knows_ \--

"Darling. If you're going to be a pervert, do it where I can see your pretty face."

He's so close that hearing his Queen's voice in his head almost sets him off, but guilt and anxiety has his hand flying back to the arm of his office chair just in time.

"I wasn't--" he starts, but bites down on his tongue. Unwise, to lie to a Goddess. "I apologise, my Queen." 

He feels Her vague approval in his chest, and his face finds his pillow again.

"Come. I'm distracted by your heartbeat. I'll allow you to join us, if that will calm it."

"I don't think that'll make it much better," Kravitz mutters, but he knows that tone; less of a question, more of a request. So he stands and lets his chair, work desk, and pillow fade into smoky nothingness.

He takes a few steadying breaths, and then a few more, as he strides to her neighbouring chambers. Of course She heard him. Heartbeats are uncommon, in the Astral, and when he conjured a flesh form to- do _that_ … ye gods. It was as if he _wanted_ to be found out.

_(Disgusting.)_

He's at Her door in an instant, and he barely has time to shake his mind clear before that door is opening, and before him is a sight he can't look directly into.

He blinks spots of blooming light from his eyes, and when his vision clears, he recognises the forms of his Queen and Her lover more definitively.

The Raven Queen covered by nothing more than a palm's width of black fabric. The soft thighs of Istus in delicate silk stockings and little else.

They are beautiful, pure _perfection_ compressed into their mortal shapes. For him. So he may look.

Kravitz still cannot hold their gaze.

"Darling boy, my sweet," his Queen croons, slow like dripping honey, "do I not take care of you? Is that why you behave like this?"

He feels struck.

"N-No," he breathes, edging on desperate, "my Queen, you _do_ , you are wholly fulfilling, I want for nothing…"

"Untrue," Istus interjects, Her voice as beautiful and lilting as he remembers, "or, so it appears."

She raises a silver-white brow and eyes the seam of his suit pants. His Queen laughs behind Her fingers, and on Her giant bed, draws closer to Her lover.

"It doesn't suit me to share, today. And Istus will not take a man. But," the Raven Queen eyes him, and Kravitz feels more exposed than when he is skeletal, "you might watch. If you're so badly in need."

An invisible knock to his chest forces him to sit as an obsidian chair manifests behind him, hard and uncomfortable. A creation of his Queen's mind. He supposes he deserves no luxuries.

Getting to witness them is indulgence enough. Enough for several thousand endless existences.

Istus' form remains the same as when he last glimpsed Her; stockings of pale lace and little else. Her consumption is not for him or any other man, he knows, but while She deigns him to look, he does.

His Queen's fingers, thin and sharp-nailed, drag up that wide thigh. Kravitz inhales deep. He knows that feeling. Down to his _bones_ and beyond that still, he knows.

He is rapt in Istus' reaction, the shiver on Her glimmering mortal skin he can see even from these paces away. A plume of smoke from which something is conjured draws his attention soon after, though, and by the time his eyes settle again on his Queen, She is dressed in not only underwear, but a garter and stockings, and a chest piece that clasps as a regal collar around Her neck.

"May as well give him a view, hm?" He hears Her hum in Her lover's ear. He knows he was meant to hear it, or else he _wouldn't_ have heard it, so he does his best to form words and respond.

"M-My Queen… no language has expressions broad enough, you are- you _both_ \--"

"Shh, dear one. Save your flattery for that which needs it." Harsh, crisp words, but Her painted smile remains. "Use this time to enjoy yourself. Or disgrace yourself. One in the same."

He nods, but if She sees, it's not with Her eyes. They're closed and pressed against Istus' neck, peppering bruises and black lipstick marks on Her brown skin. Istus spreads Her legs, allowing the   
Queen to come between them, and Kravitz finds himself mirroring the action.

His hand finds himself again, clumsily undoing the clasp of his pants to pull his erection free and rub, rutting against his palm. _Like it was Her boot, or thigh, or cunt._ He can't feel Her in his head, distinctly, but even the idea of Her hearing his lewd thoughts has him whining in equal portions shame and arousal.

"Beautiful," his Queen breathes, and for a moment, he can almost convince himself She might be referring to him. "My Lady, my all-coloured one, tell me what you'd like."

Istus must respond in some manner, but Kravitz isn't privy to it. He watches as the Queen's nails turn shorter, more human, and they find their way between Istus' parted thighs.

He can't see, exactly. This is not _for_ him. He is simply allowed to bask in them. Still, a moan slips past his lips, and he pumps himself more shamelessly.

The Raven Queen does not take Her eyes from Her love, but he feels the warmth of Her surround him.

"Would you have us both, Kravitz," She speaks between Istus' chordal moans, "if we let you? Would you be _able_?"

If there is a correct answer, he can't fathom it. "N-No," he decides, carefully, "unless it was asked of me. Which- Istus wouldn't-"

"I wouldn't," the Lady of Fate confirms, breath shallow, "but your Queen has mused often on having us two for herself. Supposing I were to share her-"

Her voice is cut off by the thrust of fingers, a sweet moan echoing on the walls and making Kravitz's head feel clouded. He's not sure if there was any riddle there, but he's too far gone to formulate a response regardless. The wet sounds of them, the look of his Goddess stroking at Herself through sheer black underwear. He's lost in them; their vision, under their gaze, within the knowledge that he's- _disgusting, lecherous_ \--

Istus reaches a hand to squeeze his Queen's breast, and Her resulting moan is what has him tumbling, fucking his fist through an orgasm that feels like it's passing through his very marrow. His eyes squeeze shut but he still sees the two of them, like sun-spots behind his eyelids, like _judgement_ , like passion, and endlessness.

When he comes back to himself, his fingers are sticky, and holding a physical form feels like monumental effort. Eyes still closed, he considers regressing to his soul light form, if only to reset the residual tingle in his bones. His heart still patters constant, but he feels as if he could sleep forever, if allowed.

As he thinks his thought, the hard stone chair begins to disintegrate beneath him, and he has to scramble to not fall on his ass.

"Oh, darling." comes the Queen's voice from within his head, and it feels somehow even more intimate than Her barely-clothed form before him. "My sweet thing. Did you really think we'd let you rest so soon?"

**Author's Note:**

> And thats the story of how kravitz died twice, i guess
> 
> Come talk to me on twitter [@ nycreous](http://twitter.com/nycreous)!!
> 
> Comments sustain my entire life, if you have a favourite line or a moment that made u sweat i would LOVE to hear abt it!!! Thank u for reading xxxxx


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